I went to Stephen's house today and me, him and Chris (Alex went out) played Final Fantasy 8 all afternoon. Stephen is already in disc three and knew so many things I didn't, which made me feel like a geniune beginner. He promised to help me out but we didn't get around to that cause after Stephen was done, Chris and I played South Park. The object of the game was to kill each other as many times using various weapons lying on the ground. Both of us were screaming, laughing and cussing so much, we were beginning to fear that Stephen's parents would storm up his room and ask, "What's going on?" But fortunately, they didn't hear the din which encouraged the laughing, screaming and cussing until both of us finally got tired of pelting each other with snowballs and cow shit. I wanted to ask Chris if I could borrow the game but there were too many cusswordss and since I didn't have my own TV, the entire house would hear it.

Chris showed me the ending of Final Fantasy 8. It was so damn romantic and sad! Squall did something that erased Rinoa and the other characters from his memory. He got lost in time or something to that effect. I dunno for sure but Chris gave me his memory card and I'll watch it again later tonight. And in the very end, he and Rinoa actually kissed. So damn romantic! If only my friends weren't around, I'd have probably cried (forgive me, I cry at romantic movies). And the odd thing was, when Squall smiled at Rinoa just before he kissed her, he looked so much like He-Whom-I-Love-Who-Doesn't-Love-Me-Back. It inspired me to start a new game (again!) and give He-Whom-I-Love's name to Squall and my name to Rinoa.

Guess what, I'm actually teaching my sister how to do Dance Revolution. She wanted to so I was like, "Fine." She's actually doing pretty good; she's much better at it than when I started.

When I was around twelve, I used to hate phone calls. When someone called me up at home, I'd make whoever answered it say that I'm not home, I'm in the shower, I'm out of the house. Now, I feel like I could spend hours and hours on the phone just talking to someone. In fact, I feel really appreciated and happy if anybody at all calls me up, even if they're only saying hi. Of course, Barber and other enemies are an exeception. But please. If you are a friend and you know my number, don't hesitate to call me at all. I'll love you for it.

Forgive me but I feel like reminiscing the past. Around this time last year, I believe that I was so totally against those girly-girls. I hated them so much! When I'd pass a girly-girl in the mall, I'd feel the sudden urge to stick out my foot so she would lose her poise. And once, for some reason, I actually said loudly, when a group of girly-girls were near, "Honestly, some people are just so full of themselves." They didn't seem to hear because they kept giggling and talking about whatever girly-girls talk about. A year later, I guess I don't feel the same way about them. Sure, I tend to roll my eyes at those girly-girls who carry those Nokias and look like they are made out of glass--so totally fragile and dainty. But most of the time, I don't even notice them at all. I guess it's because I became sorta like a girly-girl myself. Not to the point where I wear miniskirts and those really tiny tops. I just became a tad more conscious of the way I walk, talk and stand. Maybe the reason why I hated them so much was because I was jealous of them. I was young, naive and clueless. I guess I grew a tad more confident about myself as the months passed, which doesn't make me a 100% girly-girl but a better person.

I'd like to thank the webmaster of Flux Redux for Writers and Readers for the neat review he/she made on my website. The reason why I had to make my ethnicity clear is because lots of people confuse it. And I get a lot of emails about it. I'm proud of who I am, my nationality, which is why I make sure that no one confuses me for anyone else.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to download some Irvine pictures and check on how my sister is doing at Dance Revolution.